


The Paints of Sight

by intrepidem



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Poetry? but not?, descriptive writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3389453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrepidem/pseuds/intrepidem





	The Paints of Sight

Grantaire is a drunk. He is a cynic—he has dark hair, an ashen face, years of insomnia and bruises and alcoholism etched onto his features. He is pain and loss and hope and love and despair. His smirk is wild and his hair is wild, and he will never change. Gruff, distinct features, a possibly too-large nose, lips chapped and a dark shadow of facial hair all make up his face to symbolize his surface, his problem. He—with his trademark green elements, his clothes that seem just like the color of his bottle—has the eyes of blue. Bright blue, so bright that they gleam and twinkle and shine with impossible light and they're beautiful. They're stained glass held up to the white lights of paradise. In his eyes lives inspiration, creation, admiration. A wondrous soul hides behind his eyes, behind the facade of drunkeness and hate and nihilism, but the light of his spirit shines through the iris to anyone who will care to look close.

Enjolras does not look close.

Enjolras is a beacon of hope and flame. Practically a god, he was born to lead and to triumph. His golden hair, which frames and falls in front of his face no matter how tightly he ties it in the red ribbon down his back, is gorgeous and it shines like honey. His feminine features are accentuated with a barely perceptible blush, fiery and passionate just like his lips, which are red and perfect. The rest of his features are akin to sculpted marble. His clothes—the symbolic armor in his beloved red—wrap snugly around him, lifting and pushing for the new world he believes in with his entire strong, youthful heart: the future that comes when justice prevails. But his eyes...his eyes are blue. Dark blue. They're the ocean, they're sapphire, so dark but beautiful and impossible and such a peculiar, unique, glowing color that it pops out at you and makes itself known. His eyes are dark but they are most certainly not dim. They instill hope in the on-lookers, a fighting chance that wouldn't have been there for hundreds of years had he not given them his gaze of pure conviction; absolute belief, faith and pride. The people, they see this and they cheer, but the people don't really see, no, not too closely. Not one of them sees something missing, or something forgotten along the way, because no one hopes for something that they will never find. No one like Grantaire.

Grantaire looks too closely.

* * *

Not everything in this world is fair. 


End file.
